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ijuststareatstuffhereok89 · 3 months

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"Time & the Trickster" A Loki/Doctor Who crossover

Chapter 2: Window to the World

Having Loki in your apartment leaves you both confused and star-struck. But fangirl crushes will have to wait as you take it upon yourself to give Loki a history lesson about your reality and his role in it.

CHAPTER WARNING: none

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You were an early riser, and always had been. Even on mornings after you’d not slept well, you were usually able to greet the day with at least some energy. It was your superpower: you were the only morning person you knew. It was usually good for adding an extra hour or so of recreation to your day.

You needed that superpower more so today than ever. For once, when you woke up and remembered why you were splayed out like a deflating sex doll on the sofa, not a shred of dignity to be found in your position, you felt your head begin to pound.

Coffee…bring me to life…

You glimpsed at the Loki figurine on the kitchen island where you’d stashed it without thinking. Scrunching your nose, you went to the cupboard to start brewing a strong pot of Elixir of Life (French Vanilla light roast).

You weren’t sure what to think. If your new houseguest was truthful, that meant you presently had the God of Mischief in your bed. Hell, it meant that the God of Mischief, as well as Thor, Odin, and Asgard, existed. And what did that mean for everyone else in those movies? How did he even find himself here, and where was his intended path?

And, perhaps the biggest question of all: how was he supposed to get back to where he came from? Should he even be allowed to go? After all, it wasn’t like Loki from The Avengers was a good person. What if you had an intergalactic criminal in there? Lying not about his identity but about his benign existence?

Heh, I guess I had stranger days in college.

You heard shuffling at the front door. After a few moments of keys jangling, Joey came in, looking worse than when he’d left you hours ago.

“More fun at work, asshole?” you said with a sneer.

“Always,” he said, taking a seat on the other side of the island on a barstool. “Actually, I did a lot of cleaning shit out tonight.”

“Good. Serves you right for making me spend my last hundred bucks on Prince Loki in there,” you replied. “That was our grocery money, by the way. Hope you like the Crackers and Oxygen Diet.”

Joey laughed. “I was thinking about it…about him,” he said after a brief pause. “And I was wondering if you thought the same thing I did.”

“What about?”

“About The Doctor.”

The timer on the coffee pot beeped. You swiped two cheap mugs stolen from a hotel room and placed them in front of your brother.

You nodded. “I definitely thought about him.”

“Maybe it’s not such a weird coincidence that he looks like him, Sis,” Joey reasoned as you poured. “I mean, that kook in London sure looks like David Tennant.”

“It’s a publicity stunt, genius,” you said, bringing one of the full mugs to your nose so that you could inhale the gentle, earthy aroma. You were already beginning to feel more awake.

“Disney owns the Loki side of things, but not the Who side,” said Joey. “I doubt the BBC and MCU would do something like this at the same time.”

You smiled and took a slightly longer look at him. Despite his disheveled appearance, Joey really did look like your father to a T. “You and Dad watched all the old Doctor Who stuff. I just watched the Thor movies for the…”

You looked briefly at the toy on the counter.

“...plot.”

Joey took a long sip of coffee, rolling his eyes before setting the cup down to express his thoughts. “Sure you did, Sis. Hey…uh…didn’t you lose your virginity to the audiobook for High Rise?”

“SHUT UP!” you barked defensively, absentmindedly taking a sugar cube from a glass nearby and chucking it at his face. Your aim was wide (and half-assed), and instead of hitting your target, the cube flew across the room and landed at Loki’s bare foot.

You hadn’t noticed him open the door or leave the bedroom. “Oh,” you gasped.

“Hey, Loki! Good morning, soldier!” Joey raised his mug in toast.

Loki looked a little bewildered, but otherwise mentally intact. “Did I miss something?” He bent over and scooped the sugar cube, holding it between two of his fingers, observing it.

You shook your head. “No. Uh, coffee?”

“Um,” was all Loki said before Joey gestured to his own seat, getting up and offering it. Loki felt compelled to take it.

“Hey,” Joey said in an aside to you as Loki helped himself to a coffee mug, “We should tell him.”

“About how he’s a fictional character? I was going to.”

“About The Doctor,” Joey repeated. “I’m just saying, maybe it’s NOT so weird that two time-jumpers landed here after all.”

Shaking your head, you disagreed. “I want to show him the movies first,” you said, looking briefly over your shoulder. “If he is who he says he is, then he doesn’t know the truth. We can’t send him out into the world as a helpless little dingus. Someone could take advantage of him.”

Your brother sighed. “I guess. I’m gonna shower and get some sleep. Maybe when I wake up we can talk about what to do.”

You gritted your teeth and groaned. “He sounds like he wants to get back to where he came from as soon as possible.”

Laughing, Joey headed for the bathroom, barely large enough for him to turn around in. “I don’t think he has much choice.”

“No, that’s not what I’m worried about,” you added. “What if he gets desperate and, like, hurts one of us?”

He shrugged and said quickly as he closed the door, “Well, try not to bleed onto the rug. The landlord’ll add that to our rent.”

You rolled your eyes. Thanks, Joey.

You turned to go back to the kitchen island to help Loki with something to eat, but stopped in your tracks when you saw that he had found the figurine, and was holding it up in front of him as if it were covered in syrup.

“Y/N, what is this?”

Your jaw fell open as your heart began to race. You couldn’t explain the look on Loki’s face; it was as if he was wrestling in his mind between confusion and amusement.

“I…”

Loki was smiling as he held the trinket closer to his eyes, observing the details. “My my…” he mumbled. “Why does Midgard have toys of my likeness in this timeline? Am I a hero?”

His smile peeled further back on his cheeks as he had a realization.

“Do…do you admire me, Miss Y/N?”

Your skin went ice cold when he winked with a chuckle. Your mind was short-circuiting. This was a super fan’s anxiety nightmare come to life, and it was your show. You did the one thing you knew would work to get you out of it: change the subject.

“Loki,” you said solemnly, “There’s something I need to show you.”

You called in to work (the shop owner was a retired teacher with a sweet disposition, so she understood that you “had family in town”) and brought out Joey’s DVD cases. Between the two of you, you owned the DVDs of the entire Infinity Saga. Joey even burned a few bootleg copies of one of the streaming shows, but alas, it was Wandavision, not Loki’s show. You couldn’t afford any streaming services, and since password sharing/stealing was no longer possible, you only had these discs and basic cable as your entertainment in the evenings.

I wonder what’s in his serial, you thought. Has he lived it yet? Should I warn him about spoilers?

You laid out a spread of snacks, in case Loki got lightheaded or distressed over what he saw. Luckily, sleep had remedied some of his anxiety, at least to your eye. He appeared fine with the idea of sitting back for most of the day with movies.

“So, what do you know about this place? This world?” you asked as you hit the pause button as the opening logos of Thor began to appear.

Loki was sitting formally, with immaculate posture. “My seidr doesn’t work here. And your version of a Loki variant is possibly fictional and enshrined within these documentaries you are about to show me.”

“What’s a variant?” you asked.

“It doesn’t matter,” Loki said after a moment’s pause. “Show me the films,” he added with a hint of sadness.

Thus began your day watching Loki watch himself in movies. It wasn’t exactly what you’d pictured you would be doing with him if he ever became real, but at least you weren’t bickering or fighting Christopher Eccleston. He seemed entranced, a little disturbed, but also fascinated in earnest. Once in a while, he even made a critic’s comment on the filmmakers’ and actors’ choices. It made you smile when he did, because his shoulders relaxed, he sat back against the sofa cushion. He was becoming comfortable with you.

He remarked that Thor’s film counterpart was a bit off in particular: the real God of Thunder was apparently a bit less bumbling. He was as much a hunter as he was a soldier, which gave him sharper instincts than what was portrayed on screen. Still, the physical resemblance was outright uncanny.

“So, to be clear: in your world, Loki is ONLY a character?” he asked.

Nodding, you hoped he wouldn’t have some kind of existential crisis triggered by your honesty. “Yes. All of these people are the result of actors acting and writers writing.”

“And Midgard is the only Realm that exists?”

“As far as we know, and we’ve mapped the stars pretty well.”

“...and there’s no magic? Or Avengers?”

“Not outside of Comic Con.”

“This fellow playing my role is a bit theatrical.”

You nearly snorted your water. Loki even made you laugh once in a while. “You really think so? Isn’t that the point, though?” you giggled. Loki looked at you warmly.

“Your laugh is nice,” he said. “I am fond of the sound of laughter. You know, I notice these stories neglect my more playful side. I wasn’t always a parasuicidal, power-maddened Prince.”

You raised a teasing eyebrow, and he shrugged. “To be fair, I did say not always.”

He knew more about the plot than you expected. You noticed in some scenes he mouthed the dialogue verbatim, which sent shivers down your back to see. Other times, he seemed as clueless as a first-time viewer as to what was happening, especially when you popped in Ragnarok after a brief lunch break.

“That wasn’t at all how Sakaar happened,” he hissed bitterly. “I never attempted to betray Thor, and would’ve never allowed him to electrocute me without my permission!”

You chose to skip over the next film (ignoring Loki’s odd addendum about ‘permission’) and you got the feeling Loki knew why. “Thank you,” he said, “yes, I know what happens to me on the ship after Ragnarok.”

“How?” you asked. “You’re not as surprised by some of this as I thought.”

“I’m surprised by some of the accuracy, yes,” he admitted, looking at you with a twinge of sorrow in his eyes. “But you aren’t the first one to bring my life’s review before my eyes like this.”

“Who was the first? And how?” you wondered.

“Are there other films of this Loki?” Loki asked. “I can show you what happens next. Surely you know my life didn’t exactly end there.”

“Sort of.”

You got up from the sofa to clear the boxes of old Chinese leftovers as you explained. “You do get away in the next one, the last one. They figure out time travel. Thor finds a universe where you escape from arrest after taking over New York.”

“Yes,” recalled Loki, “but did they show you what happened after that? Where I fell?”

You bit your lip as you crammed everything into the overflowing garbage can as far down as possible. “Not unless you can afford fifteen extra bucks a month,” you admitted. “There is more, but I don’t have access to it.”

“We need to find it,” Loki decided. You were about to agree when he changed his tone: “Oh…perhaps I can regale you with the antics of the TVA myself?”

The way he looked at you, hopeful that you’d agree to hear his version of the next chapter of his life instead of the MCU’s, warmed your heart. You had to fight back your urge to leap across the room and embrace him. Scaring him was the absolute last thing you wanted to do. What you did do was sit next to him again and fold your legs underneath you.

You said simply, “Please.”

And he did. For hours after.

There was something in the way he wove a tale that felt not quite of this planet. His delivery was almost exaggerated as he told you about the TVA, Mobius, Sylvie, and OB, as well as Kang and Ravonna, and how he ended up unconscious and naked in an alley on South Salina street.

His voice was hot and soothing, like a drink of tomato soup against a dry, raw throat. You could have melted into his lap as he described everyone and everything, all of the marvelous lands that didn’t exist for you, the magnificent species and cultures, and the horrendous monsters he’d beaten.

You didn’t particularly care for Sylvie, who sounded like she thrived off of Persecution Complex and attention like a lamprey fed off of a shark’s hind. The way he described both her and Mobius, with equal fondness and perhaps even love, made you sink back in your seat. You were suddenly not as giddy inside.

“You love her,” you said softly and suggestively.

Loki shook his head in denial. “I thought I did until I repeatedly attempted to pull her away from the Citadel.”

“What happened there?”

He explained that he’d realized there, after repeatedly trying to pull her away from her desire to murder Kang and set the timelines into brutal chaos on a scale not even Loki could contain, that sometimes people don't change. It was all Loki could do to accept that perhaps the trite little world in Oklahoma that Sylvie longed for was, perhaps, the one she belonged in after all.

“I don't agree,” you said stubbornly, sticking out your chest in a bit of cartoonish defiance. “She needs to be held accountable for nearly taking down all of reality.”

He sighed. “No, I don’t see how. Her fate is not mine, nor is mine hers. She couldn’t take my place.”

“Your place?” you asked inquisitively. “You mention so many weird things, Loki, and expect me to know them.”

He didn’t answer you. Instead, the wheels in his head were sparked into action, and he looked for a moment as if he were reading something in the air in front of him as his idea materialized.

“Maybe…” he suddenly said. “...the stone!”

“What?” you asked, snapping out of your dreamy trance.

“We have to go back for the stone!” Loki snapped up off of the sofa as if his ass were on springs. It startled you. “Where I landed!”

“Loki! You don’t know your way around here at all! It was dark and rainy last night, so how do you expect to find it?” you slowly got to your feet and put your hands on your hips.

“There was a street sign nearby. S. Salina street! I’ll know what it looks like,” Loki promised, grabbing your hand and dragging you toward the door. “Quickly!”

“Oh my god,” you said, your breath quickening, your anxiety beginning to rush upon you. “Please slow down before I pass out. This is all so much!”

You sat back down again, this time on the barstool closest to you. Laying your head on the island, you let out the smallest, lowest moan of frustration. “This couldn’t have been a normal day…”

You didn’t expect to feel Loki’s large, cool hand on your shoulder. You could feel his skin through your flimsy cami top, and it only took a moment before you began to calm. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have assumed that people here move with the frequent urgency they do where I come from.”

The tempest waters slowly receded. You turned around, craning your neck to look up at him. You were suddenly conscious of how much of a train wreck you must’ve appeared. You’d never gotten out of the leggings you wore to bed…the leggings with the two gaping holes in the inner thigh seams.

You quickly slammed your thighs together, but if Loki noticed, he was a true Prince about it and didn’t say a word. Instead, he wiped a small piece of hair from your eye. “Have I made you ill?”

“No! Err…”

A moment of frightening silence passed as the pair of you stood and sat where you were, simply observing one another as two creatures from different planes learning all they could about each other.

Meanwhile it wasn’t helping your blood pressure as you were still having difficulty absorbing the fact that you were staring into the literal face of your teenage sexual awakening. Surely he wasn’t looking at you the same way, but his studious eyes with pounding urgency behind them were taking you in regardless. You felt vulnerable…vulnerable and turned on like a seat warmer in January.

Finally, you couldn’t stand it anymore, and you broke the silence. “If you really think you know where on that street it is, I’m calling a cab.”

On your way out the door, you dug into Joey’s jean jacket pocket, just knowing you’d find treasure. Indeed, it only took a moment before you found his tip wallet, and pulled out several tens and twenties before replacing it. Thank god you finished your shift last night, jerk.

You didn’t bother waiting for Loki to ask before saying, “Don’t worry, he owes me way more than that.”

The rainstorm had receded, but the after effects were worse.

The heat of the waning spring was thick in the air this afternoon, the sun hanging high and dry over the city with not even a wisp of cirrus obscuring it. Humidity radiated off the concrete streets and sidewalks, turning the pavement into a massive stovetop. Luckily, Joey and Loki shared a shoe size (in spite of his diminutive height, he had a larger bone structure that led to large hands and feet). A few buildings over, near one of the corners, a small group of kids had managed to crack open an old fire hydrant and were running under the makeshift water fountain, ignoring the hollers of the angry adults scolding them. It had to be ninety degrees with the heat index, which was hot for this time of year, with summer inbound but still another ten days away.

Sadly, shoe size was the ONLY size Loki and Joey had in common, and the God was forced to wear the smelly castoffs from the police station the night before. You counted the bounty you’d stolen from your brother as you waited for the cab. “I think we have enough to get you something from the Salvation Army while we’re out. It won’t be pretty, but at least it’ll be clean…and not so full of holes and stains!”

“The Army! That’s what I need!” Loki shot back, causing you to roll your eyes.

“Sweet Jesus, Loki, I still have so much to teach you.”

You asked the cabbie to drive low and slow as you drove about the city, down to the south end on the other side of the highway divide. Once there, you were surprised by how quickly it took for Loki to shout “Stop! Stop the car!”

The cabbie did as he was told, and you threw two twenties at him. No need to force him to linger, especially when you had other places to go within walking distance.

Loki pulled you along by the wrist as he maneuvered down the familiar street.

“There! That’s where I awoke!”

He ducked into an alleyway, lined high along each side with filled trash bags, loaded dumpsters, and wet, crumbling cardboard boxes. Immediately, he turned to the west wall and began looking down at the ground, as if he was just going to find this stone lying on the ground.

“Hey, I got bad news for you, Loki,” you whispered, “if this stone was shiny and bright like the one in the movies…it probably wouldn’t last very long just out in the open in a neighborhood like this.”

He didn’t listen, but as the minutes passed, he realized that you were right. The stone was absolutely and undeniably not in the alley. Someone had made off with it.

“The old man with the…territorial streak,” he mumbled to himself, recalling the first face he’d seen when he arrived in Syracuse.

Before you could ask what he meant, you were cut off by the sound of laughter from across the road.

“Oooh look, Naked Loki’s back! In clothes!” shouted Di, whooping gleefully from the same deck as she’d been last night. “Thank the Lord! Hi, Naked Loki!” she cheered as she waved vigorously in your direction.

“I think he was better off when he wasn’t wearing anything!” giggled her roommate.

“Hello, ladies,” Loki said briefly, waving sheepishly and tipping a non-existent hat to them without moving closer. “May I inquire something of you?”

Di and her roommate laughed again, and Di primped her hair. “Well, I’ll see what I can be inquired of.” She laced her reply with a British accent that would’ve made Dick Van Dyke shake his head in shame. The sass more than made up for it. You nearly lost your mind in sudden laughter.

“The crazy man who shouted at me from this alley last night--”

“--Abe?”

“Yes! Abe! Exactly! Abe!” Loki snapped to full attention, a positive bounce in his step as he finally moved in on his new friends. You followed behind him slowly, stepping back to let a car pass first. “Do you know what Abe does with things he finds? Shiny things? Does he stash them somewhere or sell them?”

“Shiny things, like what?” asked Di.

Loki tried to get her to understand. “Like an emerald, perhaps?”

Di shrugged. “I know he’s got some kind of relationship with Kit at the pawn shop near Gannon’s. I guess he’d go there to sell. Dunno if he does, though.”

“Thank you, my Lady,” said Loki graciously, thinking nothing of taking the woman’s hand in his and laying a brief kiss on it.

“Woo! Come on back anytime, Naked Loki!” she squealed.

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meraki-yao · 7 months

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RWRB: A list of thoughts on the Campfire Scene

Ok I went to sleep for another hour to calm myself down and now I can form coherent thoughts about the scene and not just scream and squeal

It's a three-minute scene with two shots. The first shot is a little over two minutes

When Alex asks his question, Henry, who was looking into the fire, tilts his head towards Alex as if to listen better. After Alex finishes, Henry looks up towards the sky, like he's wondering how to answer

Alex doesn't really react to Henry's "Once upon a time" even though he's not directly answering Alex's question. He just listens, and that's such a beautiful thing

Nick deserves a round of applause for this scene, his monologue was two minutes long, and monologues are really hard to perform because it's just you who keeps talking, you don't really get to react to other things or people, it's just you, so Nick is a fantastic job

Nick's delivery and tone, and the way he sometimes ends a sentence a bit like a question (ex: "acutely") makes it sound like Henry's been thinking about this story/ metaphor for a while but this is the first time he ever verbalizes it, so while he knows what he wants to talk about thus he doesn't need to pause a lot to think of the story, he does occasionally need to think of the next word or line because again, he never actually said any of this out loud before, and Nick does that so well

@pippin-katz pointed out that Nick misspoke and said "sent the suit a prince of armour" which is hilarious, and while because movie, this shouldn't happen, realistically we all have moments where we mix words up so it almost feels more... authentic? Also, I didn't pick it up but now that Pippin mentioned it I'm really aware of it lmao

Also Henry/Nick's voice here is so soothing? I can almost imagine him telling bedtime stories to his and Alex's kids like this in the future. I wonder if Henry would write children's books because it feels like it'd be something he do and something he could write really well, if this clip is anything to go by. Plus I stumbled across an audio of Nick reading "The Emperor's New Clothes" before (I literally have no context of why he was reading that and it was literally just audio, not sure if I can find it anymore) and it was so soothing and calming that I fell asleep to it one night. Besides the full-cast RWRB audiobook that I'm practically demanding at this point, I wonder if he would be interested in doing more audiobook/narration stuff. He's really got the voice for it

The King sending a suit of armour to protect the prince's heart kind of further proves my point of the King being a much more loving grandparent to Henry than the queen in the book, and him worrying more about Henry himself than the image of the crown. He noticed that 1, Henry is an emotionally sensitive person, 2, Henry is gay, and both of those things could be turned against him easily, and he will get hurt. He does love Henry, just not in a way that's good for Henry. If we get a sequel I do hope we can see them reconcile in one way or another. It'd be a nice example for people in the same positions.

The "Nothing will ever happen to him" line!!!! I wrote a whole essay about Kensington and this line because somehow this line was one of the most powerful ones to me, but to know that it was originally Henry's word just adds another level of pain to the Kensington scene

You can see Henry's face light up when he starts talking about the peasant boy. And Alex's quick eyebrow raise and deep chuckle. It's so beautiful, I wanna cry

We talk about Alex's heart eyes, which, yes, but Henry's look of pure adoration and love at Alex when he says "Truly Alive" makes me want to melt

I yelled a little at Alex when he started to lay back down (as in I verbally shouted "DAMMIT ALEX LOOK AT YOUR MAN") because I felt like if Alex saw Henry's face in the following lines he'd figure out Henry has issues earlier? But then I saw a take saying the shot was framed like theatre where Henry's both centre stage and in the spotlight so the focus is on him, so Alex was designed to lay back down on the timber bench to make the entire space for Henry

Henry's look of sad longing when he talks about the peasant boy pulling apart his armor is heartbreaking

I wonder if this was originally planned to be the changing point from Alex's POV to Henry's POV? Because in that case I do think the lake scene worked better as a changing point

I also wonder how did Henry end the story in his head up to this point? Because as hopefully as the last line is, at this point in the story, Henry still doesn't believe he can keep this

I get why scenes are cut because when you're putting together a movie, there are a lot of things you don't see for individual scenes until you put them together. This is why as much as I want the cast and crew to get the premiere they deserve to have, I don't really want an extended cut of the movie, because things were cut for a good reason

That being said, if the cornetto scene and this scene proved anything, is that the scenes themselves are fascinating, and I WANT THEM ALL

#rwrb #red white and royal blue #rwrb movie #firstprince #nicholas galitzine #taylor zakhar perez #alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor #henry hanover stuart fox #rwrb thoughts #rwrb deleted scene #my rwrb list

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sepulchritude · 3 months

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Reached a fun point in understanding my mental health where I can look at the way I’m flipping between apps, opening and closing projects, listening to an audiobook for 20 seconds and then pausing it, eating 3 candies in a row, checking my email and closing out without reading anything, rinse repeat—and say oh, I’m dopamine-seeking. Adhd brains are chronically low in dopamine and this is me scrambling for whatever crumbs of it I can find. This isn’t satisfying because these are not effective ways of finding the dopamine I need.

But the next step is “do something that is effective” and I STILL don’t know what that would be! Or I do know, but I don’t wanna do any of that stuff! Or I do want to, but I still can’t make myself do it!

The double edged sword of adhd is that doing things leads to dopamine, but it’s not enough dopamine, and you can’t do it anyway because you don’t have enough to even start

#this is a vent post but if you’re gonna take anything away from it #please takeaway that there’s a reason why we have meds for adhd #you can’t Bootstraps and Good Habits you way out of a chronic neurochemical imbalance #now i gotta get back to bootstrapping and good habitsing my way outta this chronic neurochemical imbalance #sepulchritudinous

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niphredil-14 · 4 months

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hey so how do you think the rottmnt boys would deal with having a published writer s/o. I imagine s/o has made Leo a jupiter jim fanfic which feels way too accurate it could be one of his comic books. Or like left little poems for Donnie lying around to cheer him up and discuss feelings with it or Fantasy short story for Mikey?

Oh, how the writer in me loves this request!! (also, welcome back to my inbox! nice to see you again! c:)

Leonardo:

Ever since Leo had found out that his lover could write, he had been begging them to write fanfiction for him. They had most likely been forced to watch all of the Jupiter Jim and Lou Jitsu movies before they even started dating Leo. But no matter how much he had begged for fanfiction, they had refused. They were just too busy working on the next volume in their series! But little did he know, that in the weeks leading up to his birthday, they had been brainstorming, plotting, drafting, and editing a special story just for him. When they handed him the gift, wrapped meticulously in Jupiter Jim themed wrapping paper, he was so excited! Before even unwrapping it, he knew that he would love it, just based on the look of pure joy and excitement in their eyes. He ripped the paper off, and found a deep blue binder, filled with paper. On the cover was written, "Happy Birthday, Leonardo" in large letters, and below it, in smaller letters, was written, "All my love, Y/N <3" His heart warmed, and he flipped the binder open, and almost squealed in excitement. Jumping over t them, he pulled them into a tight hug. He did not put it down until he finished reading it, and then he would just reread it. After he almost dropped it while on patrol, he asked Donnie to transcribe it and put it on his phone.

Raphael:

He found out early on in the relationship that his partner was a writer, and while he was very impressed with them and their talent, he wasn't much of a reader, so he didn't fully grasp just how amazing they were at first. While Raph could read, it was always hard for him, and he would have to go back and reread paragraphs over and over until they stuck. Out of love and interest in his darling, though, he began to listen to the audiobook versions of their books while he worked out. And he found out that worked for him, and was enjoyable. And though he often found himself wishing that it was their voice reading their stories to him, he knew from their conversations just how awkward they felt reading anything they wrote aloud to people, he knew how much they hated it, how vulnerable it made them feel, so he never asked. How much and often they talked about their work to him varied, though when they did it was usually just them complaining to him about their publishers/editors, or asking for his advice on the plot, or just using him as a fill in for them to perform the rubber duck theory. However, one day, they burst into his room, holding a book, and practically shaking. He had been sat on his bed, and they quickly sat down beside him, with the book pressed close to their chest. Before he could get a word out, they had begun to speak.

"I have a gift for you!" They trilled, they voice high, and sing-songy. A grin had stretched across his face, even wider than it had when they had first entered the room.

"Aw, Babe, you didn't have to get me anything!" He said to them.

"Well, It's not really that kind of gift, so..." They trailed off, and instead opted for just pushing the book into his hands, forcing the knitting needles aside. He looked down at the book, and found their name written below the title. How they had managed to keep the fact that they had published a new book a secret from him was beyond him, and he paused in wonder. "Open it!!" They exclaimed. And so he did, he flipped through the pages until he came to the dedication, and his eyes began to water at what he saw. Typed in a fancy, swirly, italic font was written,

"To my dearest, Raphael, who has given me endless support, love, and inspiration, who's the best muse anyone could ask for, and who's character is better than any I could create, I have written you into these pages so that your essence may be as immortal as my love for you is."

They had all the talent when it came to words, and he was left with only speechlessness as he pulled them into a tight hug, fat tears falling down his face as he buried his beak into their neck, holding them as close as he could.

Donatello:

It had never been a secret that Donnie was incredibly impressive, and taking that fact into consideration, it was no real surprise that anyone, even as talented a writer as his love, would find themselves often speechless in his presence. With their emotions running too high to properly verbalize them in the moment, they would often find themselves writing out how they felt in long paragraphs until they were able to cut down the words into poems, vague and intricate enough to not be fully clear, and yet so powerful as to make someone know exactly the emotion the poet felt while scribbling the words. Donnie had a very clear understanding of their experience with being unable to verbalize just how they felt, as he often experienced the same thing, and resorted to building things as a way to show his love. Which was why he was so moved when he had found their journal. He knew that all of their final drafts were kept on an ever-growing document on their computer, but he never knew just how those drafts came to be final. And yet, there was a pain in his chest as he held the journal, a disorganized mess of thoughts, in his hands, and was able to see their word vomit be carved down into pure art, not unlike a sculptor chipping away at wood or stone, to reveal the heart of their creation. He had known that he was important enough to them for them to gift him some of their poems, but to be able to look at the proof, to be able to hold it, and to touch it, the proof of just how strong the emotions he stirred up within them were, that was a powerful experience. It was as if his brain had completely shut off for the moments that he held their raw thoughts in his grasp, and all he could think of was how impossible it would be to ever completely and successfully express the same level of depth that his emotions had for them. But he knew that he'd be damned if he didn't try. And with that, he placed their journal back down on their desk, and made his way to his lab, already brainstorming.

(I got kinda carried away with Raph's, I'm not sure what came over me lmao. guess i got possessed by some kind of inspiration ahaha)

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arlana-likes-to-write · 11 months

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Lighting Bug - Chapter 17

Masterlist

*There are sections in this chapter that can be triggering for some*

Warnings: Implied past sexual abuse/rape, implied past physical abuse, bullying, harassment, self-harm, self-hatred, mention of death

‘No matter what happens and where you're placed, we won’t think any less of you.’

‘You are very bright, Miss. Y/n. You just have to believe in yourself. The rest will follow.’

‘It takes a genius to know a genius.’

Those were the statements that you echoed in your head as you turned your test in and walked back to your floor. Tony said it would take at least 24-48 hours to get the results and come up with a plan for your schooling. You told him to take his time, not wanting to know how you did so soon. You felt okay about the rest. The reading comprehension was easy and you struggled your way through the math questions. You made a quick stop in your room to grab some art supplies and headphones. There was no one here, everyone was busy with meetings, training, or out of the tower. You told no one that you were taking the test to avoid the hounds of questioning. Tony swore to keep it between you and him. You set out copy paper and new crayons and colored pencils you bought with Wanda. Continuing the audiobook, you began to color. You determined that you enjoyed coloring more than drawing. There wasn’t a picture on the page and you didn’t have to worry about staying in between the lines, you allowed your mind to shut off and throw whatever color you wanted on the page. There were no rules to follow and you didn’t care if it didn’t look perfect. It was a nice way to decompress and ignore the spiraling thoughts in your head.

Someone exited the elevator and walked onto the floor. You paused coloring and focused on their energy. It was Pepper. The CEO sat down next to you with a smile. You paused the book and took off your headphones. “Hi stranger,” she joked.

“Your back!” You fought every nerve in your body to not jump up and hug her. “How was Paris?” She put a paper bag on the table., that you didn’t realize she had. “For me?” She nodded. You stood quickly, almost knocking over the chair to look inside. Chocolate. So much chocolate. You looked at the CEO with wide eyes and a bigger smile.

“Now don’t make yourself sick,” she laughed.

“Thank you,” you searched in the bag and pulled out a bar that had a lion on it. “And I won’t,” you opened the packaging and took a bite. “You didn’t answer my question and distracted me with chocolate.” You sat down and put the bag on the floor. Pepper chuckled, grabbing a piece of paper and a colored pencil.

“Paris was,” she sighed. You looked at the CEO, the excitement of her coming home dying down. She was exhausted, dead on her feet. “Tiring.”

“Tony works you too hard.”

“Tony isn’t my boss,” you gave her a pointed look before focusing back on the picture you were drawing. “Anyways, what do you have planned for the rest of the day?” You pointed to the art supplies on the table. “How about you and I go on a little adventure?”

“Do I get to know where we are going?” She shook her head. You pretended to think about it but the smile on your face gave you away. “Yes! I’ll text Nat and Wanda so they know I’m with you and,” you looked down at the pajamas you were still wearing. “I should change. I’ll be quick.”

“Take your time,” you cleaned up the mess you created and hurried to your room. You changed into a new pair of black jeans and a graphic T-shirt, this shirt was a little baggy on you but you liked how it felt. You made sure to grab the money you had, even though you knew she wasn’t going to let you pay for anything. Walking out of your room, you made a group chat with you, Wanda, and Natasha telling them you were with Pepper. The CEO was in the kitchen, sipping on a cup of coffee.

“We don’t have to do anything,” you said, leaning on the counter. “You look exhausted.” She waved you off.

“I’m fine,” you weren’t going to argue with her as you put your phone in your pocket. “Ready?”

“Yup,” you popped the ‘p’. “Can I know where we are going?” You asked again as you walked to the elevator.

“Nope, it’s a surprise.” You pouted which made Pepper laugh. “You're such a child.” It was odd how such a simple statement made your heart flutter and your smile grow. You were a kid, a teenager at best. Before living with the Avengers, you were a kid who had to grow up too quickly. Now you were just a kid.

Pepper parked the car in front of an antique store. Antiques and Books was not a creative name but it drove home what they sold. The front of the store had huge window displays that showed some of the stuff inside. As you looked up at the modern look of the first floor transformed into classic New York City brownstone. “I figured you might like this store,” she said, turning the car off. “Want to check it out?”

“Yes!” Her laughter echoed as you jumped out of the car. You waited patiently at the front door when she caught up, you opened the door and gasped as you stepped in. There was stuff everywhere! From furniture, portraits, dolls, and clothing, this store had it all. “This place is so cool!”

“Oh hello there,” you spun around to see a woman behind the counter. Her words were laced with a British accent. “Can I help find anything?” Her eyes landed on Pepper and a smile formed on her face. “It’s good to see you again, Pepper.” They hugged tightly.

“How are the kids, Angie?” The CEO asked.

“Driving me up a wall,” you giggled. “What brings you in here?”

“I just wanted to show her around,” Pepper said, pointing at you. You waved your hand at the older woman. “Is that okay?”

“Of course it is! Give me a shout if you need anything.” You followed Pepper around the first floor of the store, afraid to touch anything because you didn’t want to break it.

“How do you know about this place?” You asked as Pepper was looking at some fancy glassware.

“Angie used to work at Stark Industries,” she said. “Unfortunately, her husband passed away when Loki invaded New York. His dream was to one day open up an antique shop like this so Tony and I helped her get one started.” You smiled.

“That’s nice of you guys.” Pepper shrugged as if it was no big deal but it was. They didn’t have to help her, they gained no monetary value but they still helped them.

“I think the books are on the second floor,” she pointed to the stairs. “Why don’t you go check it out and we’ll regroup?” Your smile grew and you nodded your head. When you walked up the stairs, the air was filled with the smell of old books. This was heaven. Half of the floor had bookshelves and boxes of books to go through while the other half had more clothes and jewelry. You went right for the books, you didn’t have anything against clothes and jewelry but books were your speed. If you had time you’d have a look around on the other side.

The books ranged from being well taken care of to the binding falling apart. But it was amazing to see the range of topics that decorated the shelves; history, fiction, non-fiction, and romance novels. This was your happy place.

You had a few books in your hand as you were scanning the shelves. You weren’t necessarily sold on getting these but they caught your eye. “Well, well, well,” you jumped at the unexpected voice. You spun around to see Michael, Lindsay, and Ray behind you, walking down the aisle. You didn’t know where Jack was and that scared you more. “Look what we have here, fresh meat.”

“I wouldn’t use the word fresh,” Ray joked. “It has been a long time since we played with her.” You stepped back.

“How-how did you know I was here?” You asked, bumping into something behind you. You turned around to see Jack, a smug smile on his face. He slapped the books out of your hand and they landed on the ground with a thud.

“We have eyes and ears everywhere,” he moved to graze your cheek but you flinched away from him. He frowned. Oh, you didn’t like that look. That meant you were in trouble. It happened quickly. Jack grabbed your wrists and pushed you up against the wall. Michael covered your mouth, muffling the scream you let out.

“Shh,” he whispered, putting a finger to his lips with his free hand. “Got to stay quiet so we can have some fun.” It was a familiar scene you found yourself in. Michael and Jack were in the middle and Ray and Lindsay were at the end. You wanted to bite down on Michael’s hand or punch Jack like you’ve seen Maria throw but you were frozen to the spot.

“Do they know?” Lindsay asked. Michael lowered his hand.

“Know what?” You whispered. The group looked at one another, having a conversation with each other you didn’t understand.

“That you are a monster,” Ray smiled. “A freak. A killer.” Your heart was beating and you felt bile move up your throat.

“I would love to see their faces when they found out the truth,” Lindsay added. “That tower isn’t your home. You aren’t a hero.”

“Do you think that living with them erases everything you’ve done?” Michael asked. Lindsay and Ray laughed. The hold Jack had on you tightened. “You are unlovable and one day they’ll leave you behind. Then what are you going to do?”

“She can come back to us,” Jack said. He used his free hand and wrapped it around your throat. “I’ve missed you so much.” You felt your lips tremble. But you heard Pepper call out your name. She was getting closer.

“Hey!” Her voice called out. “Get your hands off of her.” You saw her running over to you. Michael, Lindsay, and Ray took off but Jack leaned in by your ear.

“Till next time,” he whispered and kissed your cheek. His laughter echoed against the walls as he ran after his friends. You felt so dirty. Your heart was beating rapidly against your ribs. It was hard to get air into your lungs.

“Can you hear me?” Pepper’s voice sounded distant and muffled. “Are you okay?” You nodded, putting the books back on the shelf.

“Can we go back ho-” the word 'home' died on your lips. “Can we go back to the tower?” You didn’t wait for her response as you pushed past her and headed to the car. Hailie? No Sam. You couldn’t be bothered to remember her name or say goodbye. Everything was becoming too much. There was a pressure building inside you. You distinctly heard Pepper unlock the car before you pulled on the handle. With shaky hands, you closed the door and buckled up. You stared ahead, not looking at Pepper as she got in and started the car. You felt it. The tingle in the palm of your hands and it began to spread. You tried to let out a shaky breath but the air got caught in your lungs. Your chest felt tight as you tried to calm yourself down.

“Sweetheart,” the car turned off. “I need you to breathe for me.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, rubbing your hands up and down your legs. The usual action wasn’t helping. “I’m sorry,” you repeated, digging your nails in the palm of your hands. “I’m sorry,” you couldn’t hold it in. The pressure was building and it was becoming too much to handle. So, you let it go.

Things were happening around you as you sat on the side of the road. You heard voices and saw people moving around you but nothing registered. Everything felt numb and cold. At some point, you heard Happy say your name and direct you to a car. You were in the back with Pepper in the passenger seat. He tried to make conversation on the way back to the tower but you stayed quiet. Somehow you got back to the tower, sitting in the garage as they brought the car in. Happy got you water and you thanked him with a nod of your head. Pepper was on the phone while Bruce and Tony were looking over the car. Stupid. You were so stupid, believing that everything was going to be okay. Your leg started to bounce and you felt sick. The elevator door opened but you didn’t look up. “Y/n,” that was Natasha.

“Dorogoy, are you okay?” No, maybe that was Natasha.

“Hey bud, you with us?” That was Kate. No. Maybe. God, you had no idea what was going on. You put your head down.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “I’ll accept whatever punishment you see fit. Just please don’t make me leave.”

Natasha was at a loss for words as she watched the young girl with her head down and her leg bouncing. The Black Widow knew she was dissociating, seeing Yelena and Wanda go through one episode when something traumatic happened. Pepper called her and said something happened while they were out, panic filled her. She wouldn’t explain what happened over the phone. So when FRIDAY informed her of their return she ran to the garage with Wanda and Kate close behind. “Let’s find out what happened,” Natasha said, standing up from her knelt position. “She’s safe.”

“I’ll stay with her.” Kate sat down in the empty chair. Natasha smiled at the archer and slipped her hand into Wanda’s. She was worried. Not even when the teen first moved to the tower was she this quiet, this withdrawn. With a sigh, the couple walked over to Pepper. The CEO was on the phone while Tony was underneath the car and Bruce was looking at the engine with a clipboard in his hands.

“Do you know who those kids are?” Natasha heard Pepper ask. “No, I’m not going to arrest them.” Pepper held up her finger. “Thank you, Angie. I look forward to hearing from you.” She hung up as Tony slid out from underneath the car, whipping his forehead and leaving a trail of grease on his skin.

“The electric traction motor and the power control unit are completely fired.” He told them.

“Is it fixable?” Wanda asked. Bruce closed the hood, nodding his head.

“Oh 100% we’ve seen worse damage after a training session,” that made Natasha smile and she looked at the CEO.

“What happened?” She asked. Pepper sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“I took her to an antique store because we’ve only hung out in my office so I thought a change would be fine,” she crossed her arms. “We went our separate ways but when I found her there was a group of kids with her,” Natasha wondered if it was the same kids from the ice cream shop. “They ran off when they saw me but whatever they said to her caused her to have a panic attack which led to his,” she gestured to the car. Natasha saw no anger in Pepper’s eyes, just concern. She looked back at Kate. The teen’s leg was still bouncing but she was glancing at whatever Kate was showing her on her phone. The archer sent a thumbs up.

“What could have caused this?” The Black Widow asked.

“A large amount of electricity,” Bruce explained. “Either a power surge occurred at that exact spot where Pepper pulled over but none of the surrounding buildings were affected. So it had to come from inside the car.” Tony chuckled.

“The last time I checked Pepper only blows fuses when she’s cooking,” that received a slap from his wife. He yelped, rubbing the arm she hit. “So it had to come from a little lightning bug over there.” The rubber gloves and the fear of being touched made sense. “She knocked out the car’s and their phone’s connection to FRIDAY. That is one powerful girl.”

“We’ll talk to her,” Natasha said.

“Please let her know I’m not upset,” Pepper said. “I’ll come to talk to her when everything has calmed down.”

“Ready?” Wanda asked, looking at her girlfriend. Natasha nodded, unsure if she was ready.

You heard two sets of footsteps walking towards you. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw it was Natasha and Wanda. You braced yourself. You’ve been good, stayed out of trouble, and done what they asked. Maybe they would be gentle. They knelt at your level and your body flinched. “I’ll help fix the car or you can hit me. I’ll take it.”

“Dorogoy,” Natasha said. “No one is going to hit you or kick you out. We aren’t upset.” You’ve heard that before. The worst was when you believed them and the punishment came out of nowhere.

“Can you tell us what happened with those kids?” Wanda asked. You folded your hands together and rested your arms on your legs. The floor became very interesting to look at.

“They were uh kids I knew from a homeless shelter,” you whispered. “They picked on people here and there but they tormented me,” you felt your throat burn as you tried to keep the tears at bay. “My stuff was never safe if I left it there and sleep was impossible. I was their plaything,” your voice cracked. Your leg began to shake. You could feel the pressure building again. “They knew what I could do. I tried to keep it hidden but they snuck up on me and I shocked them.” You were leaving pieces out but it was becoming harder to talk about. “I was uh born with it,” you continued. “Don’t know how or why but God gave me this curse.”

“Why do you see it as a curse?” Wanda asked. You finally looked up at the couple in front of you.

“I’ve hurt and killed so many people because of it,” you looked away. “What else is it supposed to be?” You sighed. “Can I go to my room?” Natasha nodded. You moved in a blur as you walked over to the elevator and waited for it to come and take you to your floor. It was hard to stay grounded in the present. Your mind kept slipping into dark memories. You could feel your father’s hands on your skin. The surge of electricity passed through you as HYDRA tried to punish you. Each name and taunt thrown at you by kids and adults you’ve passed by. You dug your nails in the palm of your hands. But the normal pain wasn’t helping, it wasn’t working. The elevator doors opened and you ran to your room. You threw open your door and slammed it behind you. Quickly bury your face, into the crochet blanket. Wanda washed it for you and the smell grounded you. It reminded you of Natasha and Wanda. You felt safe and loved. But it still didn’t wash away the words that Michael said, ‘You are unlovable and one day they’ll leave you behind. Then what are you going to do?’ You whimpered, biting down on your lower lip. In the end, you were right. You were cursed.

“How is she?” It was the first question asked as Natasha, Wanda, and Kate exited the elevator. The archer immediately went to her girlfriend who was sitting on the couch with Maria, Rhodey, and Vision, going over the Wakandan mission. Steve was in the kitchen and Sam was at the kitchen counter. Steve was the one who asked.

“She’s not doing well,” Natasha answered, pouring herself a drink. “She is in her room. I’m giving her space but we’ll check on her soon.”

“What can we do to help?” Sam asked. Natasha wasn’t sure. All she wanted to do was wrap her arms around the teen and shield her from the world. Wanda placed a gentle hand on her back.

“I think the best thing we can do is be there for her when she needs us,” Wanda looked at Natasha. The Black Widow nodded. She heard Vision excuse himself from the conversation on the couch and walked over to the couple.

“I apologize if this isn’t the correct time to bring this up and adds more stress to the already stressful situation. But-”

“Vis,” Natasha cut off the android. “Just please say what you need to say.” She did not have the energy right now.

“Right. Miss. Bishop filled us in on our young friend’s power and I can’t help but draw some conclusions,” he sighed. “Didn’t the girl’s family die in a house fire that first responders said was caused by an electrical fire?” Natasha paused, the drink stopped in midair as she let what Vision said settle with her. It seemed as if the entire room was frozen. She looked at Wanda, the click of her glass on the counter seemed much louder.

“Do you think-?”

“She lost control of her powers, set her childhood home on fire, and killed those monsters she calls mom and dad?” Yelena said from the couch. Kate squeezed her girlfriend’s shoulder, trying to calm her down.

“Yeah,” Natasha pointed to her sister. “What she said.” Her earlier words rang in her head, ‘I’ve hurt and killed so many people because of it.’

“I mean it’s possible,” Wanda said slowly. She used her magic to get a glass for herself and poured a drink. Natasha was going to need about 3 more to get through today. “Whether it’s true or not it doesn’t change anything.” It was all the group needed to continue what they were doing. Wanda was right it didn’t change how Natasha or any of the others saw the young teen. Truth be told, it made Natasha’s heartbreak for the girl even more. She couldn’t imagine the guilt she was carrying at such a young age too. The Black Widow sighed, moving the liquid in her class but didn’t drink it. She couldn’t help but think about a conversation she had with her.

“My father wasn’t much of a drinker. He was a child of the Lord. But there were certain occasions when we found him staring down an empty bottle of whiskey or rum or whatever. He was trying to soothe those mental scars. It never seemed to work like he wanted, causing more damage.”

“Did your father hit you?”

“All the time,” she admitted. “He didn’t have to be drunk to do it.”

It was the first time she opened up about the truth about who her parents were. It made Natasha’s blood boil then and it did again. If her parents weren’t already gone, Natasha knew she and the other Avengers could hunt them down and make them pay for what they did. But they were dead, possibly killed by the daughter they were supposed to love and protect. The world seemed to be cruel like that.

You were curled underneath the covers, staring at the empty wall. The rubber gloves are back on your hands. You were pulled from your thoughts by a knock on your door. You ignored it, making no move to get up and answer it. But the knocking continued. “Miss. Chavez is at your door,” Out of everyone at the tower, you knew she would be the first one to come to talk to you. “Would you like me to unlock your door?” You didn’t answer but you heard the door open.

“Hey,” she said. “Kate told me what happened.” Of course, she did. It must be the talk of the tower. “Are you okay?” She sat on the edge of the bed. You didn’t answer her or turn to look. “No one is upset or angry with you. They just want to make sure you're okay.” She sighed. “Please don’t shut me out.” You closed your eyes, feeling tears about to fall. “Tell me what you need.” Finally, you turned to face her.

“Leave me alone,” you whispered. It hurt to say but you wanted to be left alone. You wanted to lay in bed and cry and scream and yell into your pillow without people around.

“Why don’t I show you the Sanctum?” She suggested. “You could meet Strange and Wong. It-”

“America,” you pleaded. “Please.” But she didn’t move. You lay back down, facing the wall again. A small part of you was grateful that she was trying to pull you out of this mindset but that was being overpowered by darkness. You just wanted her to stop talking and leave. So you could sulk in this darkness alone. This heaviness seemed to surround you and swallow you whole. “America,” you sat up quickly, arms thrown to the side. You must have missed understood the heaviness that you were feeling. A small electric discharge left your hand and traveled to America. She yelped, shaking her arm. Your eyes widened. You felt the color drain from your face as dread washed over you. She shook her arm, trying to regain some of the feeling. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry.” You stuttered out.

“Hey, it’s okay. See it’s fine,” she put her arm up but you flinched away. “It was my fault. I’ll leave you alone.” Without another word, she left your room. You burrowed your face into the pillow and finally let the tears you’ve been holding fall.

“Are you okay?” America closed the door of Y/n’s room. “FRIDAY said you were hurt,” Natasha said.

“I’m fine,” she said but the redhead knew she wasn’t. America was rubbing her arm and fighting back tears. “I thought it would be good to get her out of the tower and show her that no one was upset. But she asked me to leave and I didn’t,” her voice started to shake as her emotions were getting the better of her. “She got upset and shocked me.” Without thinking, Natasha brought America into her arms for a hug. She felt tears on her shirt.

“Are you sure you're okay?” The teen nodded, stepping back and whipping away her tears.

“I’m just upset with myself. I don’t want to lose her, you know?” Natasha nodded, understanding what she meant. “I think I’m gonna go work out. Let me know if you need anything.”

“Same to you,” Natasha said, watching her walk to the gym. She sighed and rested her head on Y/n’s door. “Hey kid, I know you don’t want to talk but we are here if you want to.” There was no response and Natasha wasn’t expecting one. “FRIDAY, can you please keep an eye on her and alert us if there is a problem?”

“Of course, Miss. Romanoff,” the AI said. Natasha was worried but she couldn’t force her to talk. They all just had to wait until the teen came to them. She hoped nothing would happen until then.

Taglist: @aestruvx, @toouncreativeforausername, @modedddd, @julilamoment, @mythixmagic, @yourmamacom, @vicmc624, @cherlenovix, @liliesandrosies, @whitewidowsbite, @clintsbigtoe

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keyofjetwolf · 2 months

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A Jet Wolf 2024 Book List

I keep meaning to do this, and as I'm clearly not in the mood to work my actual job today, why not now? WHY NOT INDEED.

For the first time in a long time, I'm making an active effort to read. It's something I enjoy but have let slip away from me over the years, and after finally admitting it wasn't going to just naturally return without putting in the work, here we are. I've also allowed myself to embrace audiobooks, which has been a sticking point I can't explain, but increases my book consumption about a thousand fold. I "read" as I get ready in the morning, while taking my steps, while knitting, before bed, whenever the fuck. It's not yet April and I just finished the twelfth book out of my 2024 goal of twenty, thus proving I was being weird about something for stupid reasons, as is really often the case so you'd think I'd learn sooner, but why make it easy for myself.

Anyway, I like lists, and also foisting my unsolicited opinion on the world. Here, then, is the former, with thoughts on each to eventually follow as I will inevitably continue to not want to do actual work.

Oh, and the first lines thing, too. Because I think it's neat.

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How to Sell a Haunted House, by Grady Hendrix [first line]

Never Lie, by Freida McFadden [first line]

Sing Her Down, by Ivy Pochoda [first line]

Apples Never Fall, by Liane Moriarty [first line]

The Change, by Kirsten Miller [first line]

Truly Madly Guilty, by Liane Moriarty [first line]

The Immortalists, by Chloe Benjamin [first line]

Nine Perfect Strangers, by Liane Moriarty [first line]

The Silent Patient, by Alex Michaelides [first line]

The God of Endings, by Jacqueline Holland [first line]

The September House, by Carissa Orlando [first line]

The Pallbearers Club, by Paul Tremblay [first line] [thoughts]

What Alice Forgot, by Liane Moriarty [first line]

Wuthering Heights, by Emily Brontë [first line]

Paused: Demon Copperhead, by Barbara Kingsolver [first line]

Currently: The Terror, by Dan Simmons [first line]

#jet wolf also reads books #jw books 2024

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lesbianwriter · 1 year

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Part two

“I mean, I get the rehabilitation thing—giving second chances and that stuff—but why me? Why do they have to be in my house?” Hero asked, looking down at the file with a frown.

Superhero took a sip of his drink, smiling at the waitress and asking for a refill before finally paying notice to Hero. “Villain’s docile. We think. She doesn’t talk much, she doesn’t do much…we figure she’s the best for this experiment. And you, dear Hero,” he paused to take a bite of his food, purposefully taking longer in a way he knew irritated Hero, “were chosen because you’re an understanding person—a good hero. You won’t be tempted to do anything bad to her because of her past.”

“I don’t want to let a stranger—a villain at that,” she added, whispering and leaning closer across the table, “into my home. That’s unsafe. Yeah, I don’t intend to hurt anyone, but that doesn’t mean I want them in my house.”

“Hero, everything will be cared for.” He assured. “All you have to do is train her and give her a room to sleep in. We pay for food, water, all that. And if she does end up a threat to you or anyone else’s safety…there are measures to keep her in line.” He slid a remote across the table.

Hero stared at it in shock…and a little horror, too. “What does that do?”

“Nothing bad—it’s a little beep in her ear that gets louder the longer you hold it. The staff have barely had to use it on her. We believe she isn’t a bad person at heart, but was simply roped into this and ended up with the wrong people.”

“That’s poetic and all but she’s still a villain. If you want to rehabilitate her, I’m fine with that, I don’t care, I think people should have second chances, but I don’t want to be the one handing out those chances at my expense.”

She leaned back in her chair, the plastic squeaking behind her.

When Superhero said he’d take her to dinner, she was foolish enough to think for all her hard work, he’d take her somewhere nice—somewhere where all the food on the menu didn’t come with a free side of grease, grease, and more grease. Superhero wore a suit to work, had a meticulously trimmed silver mustache, and spoke in a voice that would be in a mystery audiobook. Finding him seated in his suit tie at an obnoxiously yellow chair in the center of a diner had been quite the juxtaposition, to say the least. It had been clearly done to annoy her, that much was obvious by the grin on his face as she sat down.

The setting was the cherry on top of the other news he was delivering—Hero was in charge of rehabilitating a villain.

That didn’t exactly put her in a stellar mood either.

Villains were people too, that she could recognize, and sure they deserved a shot to try again, but her job was to capture them and to bring them to justice. She did that. She did it well. Her job wasn’t to play therapist for some troubled criminal.

Superhero smiled at her disdain. “You should give her a chance. I doubt she’ll bother you—everybody thinks she’s mute.”

“Is she?”

“That’s undetermined.” He hummed. “Read her file a bit more, get to know her, and she’ll be dropped off tonight.”

“Do I get her a bed?” Hero looked down at the file in her hands, absently reading over the more mundane snippets of information. “Wait—“ the sudden thought hit like a brick, making her reel back a moment. “Does she have a power?”

She glanced around, but the diner was mostly empty. The waitress was only just now coming back with Superhero’s refill.

Naturally, he smiled at her and made small talk while Hero waited for a response, grinding her teeth.

“Yes, but it’s undetermined.”

“What else about her is undetermined?”

“Quite a lot.” He sipped his drink casually, eyeing Hero a fraction more seriously. “Look, Hero, I’m going to be serious when I tell you that you were chosen for this because I believe you can do this. You have a caring heart, deep down beneath your cynicism. There’s a lot we don’t know about her—we don’t know her past, her powers, or anything much—but we can change her future. I see a promise in her.”

“I’ll remind you of this when I end up stabbed in my sleep.” Hero muttered. She breathed in through her nose, and exhaled heavily. It wasn’t like she had much of a choice about this. “About the bed? Do I have to buy one?”

“Do you have a spare bed?”

“It’s a crumby old futon, but technically, it can function as a bed.”

“That’ll work—she’ll have a blanket and a pillow, so don’t worry about that part.” He stood up, wiping his fingers on a napkin.

“I’m worried about being murdered in my own home.” Hero argued fruitlessly, her too wiping her hands on a napkin, despite not having touched her food.

“Give her a chance, Hero. I believe she can be good if she has the opportunity. I see the same spark in her that I saw in you.”

———

True to his word, Villain showed up on Hero’s doorstep later that night.

Hero’s first impression was that Villain certainly looked the part of a silent hermit. She was short, accentuated further by how her head hung low, and her eyes were downcast so much so that Hero couldn’t catch a glimpse of her eye color. She hung awkwardly in the foyer upon arrival, holding her meager luggage like an unwelcome relative showing up for the holidays.

Hero cleared her throat. “I can show you where you’ll be sleeping, if you want to set your stuff down before we…talk.”

Minutes before Villain was left at her door, he called to inform her that the procedure would be to have an informed discussion about the rules, expectations, and such and such before anything happened—pretending that either person in the situation actually had a choice.

Villain stared silently, but eventually gave a small nod.

“Are you capable of talking?”

Stiffly, Villain froze up for a minute, but nodded, stray strands of hair falling loose into her face.

Hero’s immediate instinct was to ask—why don’t you talk then?—but that would be too hopeful for a verbal response.

“Okay then.”

After the awkward beginning, Hero took her new trainee upstairs.

And, as Superhero said, Villain was docile. She didn’t make sudden movements. Every twitch, every bend of her fingers, every turn of her head seemed oddly meticulous. Suddenly, the idea of her having the sound device seemed useless because Villain didn’t do much of anything, much less resist. Hero got to merely stand off to the side and watch listlessly as Villain set her few belongings on the futon.

Though, it also made her skin prickle, preparing for when it would snap and Villain would whip around and attack.

———

Back downstairs, Hero sat on the couch across from Villain, explaining the rules of her stay and how her training would function.

“Do you understand?” She questioned, mostly to fill the silence in the room.

Villain nodded, her hands clasped in her lap.

“Okay…good. I’m Hero. What’s your name?”

Of course, Hero knew her name—she had, unfortunately, done as Superhero said and read the whole thing—but she wanted to try to get her strange new ‘roommate’ to talk. However, the attempt proved unsuccessful when all Villain offered in response was a blank stare.

Hero grimaced, but tried to nod reassuringly. “You don’t have to talk right away, but it’d be good if you could say something in case you need help or anything like that…no pressure.”

It felt like she was applying pressure.

This situation painfully reminded Hero why none of her friends came to her for comfort—they came for brutally honest advice that they needed to hear.

Unsurprisingly, Villain stayed silent and went to bed a few minutes later.

Hero warned Villain before she locked the door, and then she went back downstairs to eat dinner. Usually, she was alone in her house, but now she wasn’t alone…it felt stiff, as if the air had gone stale because of the presence of another person—a villain that Hero had never met before.

It made her lose much of her appetite, so she put the leftovers in the fridge and cleaned off her plate a little earlier than normal.

She needed the rest, anyhow.

The next day would be a long day—the first of a new mission always was—and rehabilitation programs were especially difficult because of how fragile they were. Hero could only hope she wouldn’t wake up with a knife to her throat.

#hero x villain #redemption arc #villain x hero #heroes and villains #my writing #sapphic

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the-darkestminds · 15 days

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E/riel’s laugh at how Azriel rejected/ignored Gwyn’s handshake (I’m assuming the part where Gwyn reaches the finish line and says “Well?” while extending her hand), but Gwyn never offered a handshake. She did reach out her hand, yes, but not for Azriel to shake her hand. Gwyn didn’t want a handshake, she wanted her prize. When she reached out her hand it was like “hello I proved you wrong now give me my prize!”. I never interpreted it as Gwyn wanting a handshake.

Or they bring up how Azriel didn’t care that Gwyn was kidnapped for the Blood Rite. Azriel’s shadows deepened and his siphons flowed at the mention of her name, and in the audiobook there was a pause before Cassian said Gwyn’s name and there was an emphasis put on it. If Cassian and Azriel did anything to help the girls, then not only would both of them probably face execution, but the Valkyries as well. Not even Rhys could do anything. And Azriel brought up how maybe Amren could find loopholes in the law. And he spoke to Rhys with urgency, and I think he even stammered (for the first time in the entire series). If Rhys couldn’t do anything (most powerful High Lord), then what the hell could Azriel and Cassian do?

And when Azriel saved Gwyn, he slaughtered all the soldiers without hesitation, and we know that he usually keeps two alive for interrogation/torture, but in this one instance he didn’t. Thought sounds like going feral/being in rage to me. Yes, after Mor arrived he left, but he had to go after the Cauldron pieces (war was literally on the horizon here). And Mor had to heal Gwyn from her assault, and Gwyn being left with Mor (another woman) was probably the better thing to do. Maybe Azriel thought Gwyn would’ve felt better with another woman by her.

And they laugh at how Gwyn tried to get Azriel to open up but he shuts her down and tells her to the cut ribbon. Azriel did open up to Gwyn by admitting that he does sing. He didn’t demonstrate his singing, but we still got something from him. Something that we didn’t know, and this is a man who is very private and a bit closed off. And Gwyn gave Azriel multiple chances to leave. She even dismissed him and he asked her “Are you kicking me out?” and he chose to stay and talk. He made that choice himself. He could’ve left at any time, but didn’t. “He was being polite and didn’t want to be rude” he still could’ve left and gave a polite reason. He also smiled and laughed more in ONE scene with Gwyn than he ever has in the entire series.

They argue about the necklace being Elain’s (and yes it was originally her gift), but would Elain really want that necklace back if she knew that Azriel gave it to another woman? And let’s not forget that Elain GAVE it back to Azriel (like she did Truth Teller). She made that choice to return it. “Azriel specifically picked it out for Elain!” I honestly don’t know why they would want Elain to have it back. It was generic enough that he didn’t have any problem with giving it to another woman. What does Azriel know about Elain other than she loves to garden and bake (there’s nothing wrong with baking & gardening btw)? Are roses even her favorite flower? I personally think tulips might be, but that’s just my little headcanon. And I’ve seen some E/riel’s say that Clotho didn’t give Gwyn the necklace (?), but Clotho and Gwyn are friends so? And even if she didn’t give the necklace to Gwyn it still doesn’t erase the fact that Azriel felt a spark in his chest, buried the image of Gwyn smiling/her joy and tucked it into his chest where it glowed, and that it brought a slight smile to his face. (I don’t think the necklace will end up being a big deal though.)

(And in case E/riel’s try and twist canon, Azriel first offered it to Gwyn and then he told Clotho that if there’s another priestess who wants it to give it to her).

Anon here is making a lot of good points ☝️ I have seen all of this and more. Things that don’t support their ship are brushed aside or ignored. Also yes, they definitely misinterpret a lot of what’s written, like the scene you mentioned when Gwyn holds out her hand. They also like to ignore the second half of the bonus chapter. Yes it started with Elain but ended with Azriel distracted and thinking of another female, his chest glowing at the thought of her smile. They also like to pretend that forbidden love would be hot and romantic for Azriel when really it would be the worst possible thing for his character. We got to see more of Azriel’s personality in his very short interaction with Gwyn than we have in the rest of the books combined. Also that moment when he’s watching Gwyn cut the ribbon with “admiration and quiet encouragement...Only time will tell what happens but I think it’s very clear who will be end game. 🙂‍↕️

#thank u anon #you are speaking facts #☝️#gwynriel #pro gwynriel #anti elriel

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antikate · 7 months

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I genuinely think romance is a deeply underrated genre that is sneered upon because of its associations with femininity; I think it’s utopian and hopeful and worthwhile and I crave good romance stories. At the same time I hate most romance novels that I try to read.

I had Covid this week and for a few days was too sick to even look at a book or screen so I downloaded a bunch of audiobooks from the library and I gave up on every single one of them:

1. Notorious by Minerva Spencer. I noped out of this a few pages in when one character was described as delectable and luscious and another character’s eyes were described as orbs. The book also comes with a whole heaping of misogyny and Islamophobia apparently.

2. Georgie All Along by Kate Clayborn. The first ??? 20 ??? Or so pages of this book consist of the heroine back in her home town and going into a deli to order a coffee and not having enough money to pay for it because she left her wallet in the car. 20 pages!!! It’s humiliating and is literally like being stuck in the head of the most neurotic person you’ve ever met. Page after page of this woman ruminating about what a loser she is. Exhausting! And I say this as someone who can ruminate at the Olympic level.

3. Pretty Pretty Boys by Gregory Ashe. This one is an m/m series about two cops who fall in love and I had hopes that it might be solid but the characterization was basically “whatever the author felt like writing”. Also the cops act like cops as in they’re abusive to random people and spend a lot of time being horrible, which I don’t really need in a romance.

4. Not Your Average Hot Guy, Gwenda Bond. Idk this was just. A bit? Boring? Also everyone was just a bit too self consciously sassy. The heroine runs an escape room but one of her props turns out to be actually a demonic book. I think one of my issues with this book and so many other romance novels is that banter is a real skill and most people can’t write it. But everyone, regretfully, tries.

5. Liar City, Allie Therin. There’s this one audiobook narrator who has such a snotty voice that I just cannot. This book might have been great but the instant I started listening I knew it was that dude. Maybe I’ll try it as an actual book.

6. The Blacksmith Queen by GA Aiken. This is one of the worst books I’ve ever tried to read. Truly. The heroine is a blacksmith and the hero is a centaur, which I thought sounded fun (also I was wondering how they’d have sex because I’m like that) but it was … puerile? Astonishingly stupid?

7.Capture the Crown, Jennifer Estep. This is also an absolutely idiotic book. The hero has amethyst eyes and the heroine has some other gem coloured eyes and someone else has sapphire eyes and if you took a shot every time it someone’s eye colour was described as a jewel tone you’d be hospitalised for alcohol poisoning by about page four.

8. A taste of gold and iron, Alex Rowland. This is decently written - as in the prose is solid - but the plot is half baked, the characters are tedious, and the world building is intriguing but paper thin. I’d say it’s a much better book than most here, but I still couldn’t bring myself to finish.

Not everything I’d read lately has been terrible so here’s some romance or romance adjacent books I have actually enjoyed:

1. The Heart Principle by Helen Hoang: This book is not going to change your life but it does what sets out to do with a slight if entertaining love story.

2. The Secret Lives of County Gentlemen, KJ Charles: I think Charles is one of the best and smartest historical romance writers I’ve ever read. Her books are everything I want out of romance: the characters are interesting, idiosyncratic, and sympathetic; the details feel right; the stories work; and the sex scenes are both hot and do important plot and character work. Her books are swoony and emotional and feel very real while still being romantic. (The audio narrator of this let it down a little because he took a lot of odd pauses but I’m being super nitpicky.)

3. A Far Wilder Magic, Allison Saft: This is a sweet YA novel set in an interesting fantasy world - I really enjoyed the prickly heroine and her dog.

4. In Memoriam, Alice Winn: This beautiful, heart-rending novel is not exactly a romance - it’s set during WW1 and has very explicit and realistic scenes set in the trenches. The trauma and suffering of the war are achingly portrayed. But it is a love story between two young soldiers, even if it’s not necessarily one with an easy or simple ending. Highly recommend with the caveat that Winn does not shy away from the brutality and senselessness of WW1.

5. Thornhedge, by T Kingfisher: This is a brief but resonant Sleeping Beauty retelling. Not exactly a romance but also not unromantic. My only complaint is that I wanted more. I’m a big T Kingfisher fan, and I adore her practical, earthy characters (like Toadling).

6. We Could Be So Good, Cat Sebastian: I’m here for everything Sebastian writes. Her books are low stakes but still compelling, her characters are likeable and complex, I actually enjoy her banter, and she has a knack for capturing historical details and moments. Her conflicts never feel fake and the resolutions are always earned.

#book reviews #books #from the trenches of Covid #complaining about romance novels #the author is open to recommendations

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